


In Which There is a Window, and it is Filthy

by Teh_Poet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal, Ass to Mouth, Cum Play, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, I grossed myself out, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Oral, Rimming, forced hedonism, is that a thing?, this is messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:24:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teh_Poet/pseuds/Teh_Poet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock braced his hands against the chilled window, trembling with each breath in. He let his head hang as John’s fingers moved propitiously up his flanks, over his ribcage and digging in.</p><p>“If you don’t get yourself off, you don’t get off at all, remember Sherlock?” John stood still, resolutely not moving his hips where they were connected despite the teasing fingernails he blessed Sherlock with.</p><p>Sherlock swallowed, collecting himself before arching and pushing back into John’s pelvis. The stretch was sweet and consuming, and his breath fogged the glass.</p><p>“That’s better. Go on.”</p><p>--</p><p>this is filthy straight fucking- nothing redeeming, zero plot, just a messy graphic moment</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which There is a Window, and it is Filthy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm apologizing for this. I don't know if I SHOULD apologize for this, but I am. I'm sorry.
> 
> SPARKLY HEARTS AT CATIEBRIE BECAUSE BETA!

Sherlock braced his hands against the chilled window, trembling with each breath in. He let his head hang as John’s fingers moved propitiously up his flanks, over his ribcage and digging in.

“If you don’t get yourself off, you don’t get off at all, remember Sherlock?” John stood still, resolutely not moving his hips where they were connected despite the teasing fingernails he blessed Sherlock with.

Sherlock swallowed, collecting himself before arching and pushing back into John’s pelvis. The stretch was sweet and consuming, and his breath fogged the glass.

“That’s better. Go on.”

Sherlock shuddered, pulling off of John’s cock and pressing back again. A small sound escaped his throat and he breathed deep once more. This time when he pulled off he clenched his muscles and squeezed -all the way to the tip- pulling a sound out of John like he’d been punched in the gut.

John brought his palm down hard on Sherlock’s arse, startling a yelp out of him. “That’s not on, Sherlock, you know better than that.”

Sherlock huffed out a whimper, ribcage heaving from the exertion of bending at the odd angle and fucking himself back on John.

“This is about you, love. I don’t want you thinking about anything except how good my prick feels in you.” He graciously pressed forward for a beat, pulling Sherlock into him and sitting flush, driving his point home. “If I cum before you’re finished there will be consequences.”

Sherlock sobbed out a breath, well past words. He spread his arms wide, gripping the window frame, and finally followed orders. The rhythm was hard to find, but the speed came easily. John ran his hands over Sherlock’s back, unable to resist fingering along the gently defined ribs and the exposed notches of his spine. Each exhalation Sherlock managed carried soft vocalizations through the living room of the flat and with the passing seconds grew more and more desperate.

John took pity and pressed his fingernails into Sherlock’s back, scratching deep red lines down the length of his smooth skin. Sherlock shouted, digging his own fingers into the wood of the frame, before moving a hand to fist his own prick. His hips kicked ineffectually as he slowly climbed toward his peak.

John leaned forward and growled low, “you’re bloody gorgeous, you know that, right? Sweating and crying while you fuck yourself hard… Just imagine what those people down there must think- they’re probably creaming their knickers, looking at your pretty face.”

“John-!” Sudden, desperate, he was almost there. “John!”

John settled his hands around Sherlock’s hips, steadying his movements and rubbing his thumbs in small circles over Sherlock’s heated skin. The room grew quiet, apart from the harsh breath Sherlock let out through his nose. John could feel the twitches and pulses deep inside as Sherlock came, but still he refused to move for him. Sherlock let out a last pained huff of breath before his muscles finally stilled and he calmed, sagging against the cold window panes once more.

John withdrew, allowing Sherlock a moment to breathe through the comedown. He walked backward through the low light of the flat, letting his calves catch on the sofa and falling back to sprawl naked on the piece of furniture. Sherlock turned and pinned him with a stare, eyes fever-bright and lanced with intensity. He followed John and sank to his knees on the floor. John held eye contact, daring him silently. Sherlock’s only response was a quick smirk before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock.

John groaned and fit his fingers into the unruly sweat-thick curls in his lap- “Oh, you filthy thing.”

Sherlock hummed, stretching his mouth around the cockhead and sucking lightly. His chin grew shiny with lubricant and saliva as he swallowed John down, inch by inch. His eyes slitted closed when he reached his limit, wrapping his cummy hand around the amount he couldn’t fit into his mouth. His movements were slow, deep suction and wet slide.

John tugged at the dark tendrils, scratching lightly at the scalp. He breathed deep and sank further into the cushions, spreading his legs and angling his hips up into the wet heat of Sherlock’s mouth.  
Sherlock moaned at the assault on his scalp, but the inward press of John’s prick choked it off when he bottomed out in the back of Sherlock’s throat.

John chuckled and huffed out a breath. “What happened to this all being about you, hm?”

Sherlock pulled off, lifting a brow sardonically even as he moved to cover the exposed skin of John’s cock with his hands. “If you think I get nothing out of this, John, you are sorely mistaken.”

Before John had a chance to respond with more than an amused grin, Sherlock had descended upon him again. He rubbed his cooling ejaculate into the sensitive skin of John’s prick and chased it with his mouth. Each upward pull was accompanied by suction so luscious John’s toes curled and he couldn’t keep his fingers still, rubbing and tugging at Sherlock’s scalp. 

Sherlock moaned at a particularly vicious tug forcing John to wind his hands tighter and hold Sherlock’s head still. He waited just a beat, building the anticipation of the moment a notch higher, before thrusting up into that mouth. Sherlock let his jaw fall slack and covered his teeth as best he could with tongue and cheeks- John’s head fell back and he pulled in a quick breath. He plunged back into the plush wet squishy hole at his disposal.

The room was still but for the slight creak of sofa springs and the wet squelch and gurgle of Sherlock’s throat as he gagged around each intrusion. John’s stomach tightened with the effort it took to hold off and go on for just a little bit longer, but soon he was pulling Sherlock’s face into his thrusts. Sherlock let his hands wander over John’s abs and up to his chest, simply smoothing through the sweat and providing one more point of contact between them.

The trembling in John’s torso reached a peak, and with a sudden violent burst of energy he yanked Sherlock’s head off his cock just as the first pulse of his orgasm overtook him. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut but left his mouth open and soft, catching a tongue-full of spunk before John’s prick jerked wildly spraying cum over more of Sherlock’s face and over his own stomach. The mess was everywhere, a Rorschach of ejaculate spread between them, and John breathed an amused hmm when he was finally free of his orgasm, letting go of Sherlock’s curls to cup his face for a moment. Sherlock continued to pet John’s skin, trailing his fingers through the sticky puddle.

“That was splendid, Sherlock. How are you doing down there?” John pressed a shin between Sherlock’s crouched thighs, butting up against his renewed hardness. He chuckled as Sherlock let out a sharp breath through his nose, the barest hint of a whine escaping on its tail. “Yes, that’s what I thought…” John let Sherlock manhandle him, pulling him lower on the sofa and pressing his legs up folding John in half with his arse spread and exposed. Sherlock buried his face between John’s cheeks, licking a wet glob of saliva and cum into and around John’s hole. John tilted his pelvis up a bit, and sighed blissfully as Sherlock laved another stripe -more saliva, less spunk- and petted Sherlock’s hair away from his forehead fondly. “Absolutely filthy…”


End file.
